


take a miracle to keep me near to you

by irleggsy



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Freewritten, M/M, Summer Romance, farm au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:40:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26973049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irleggsy/pseuds/irleggsy
Summary: It’s unfair how…beautifulAtsumu is. How aesthetically pleasing he is to observe, every part of him from head to toe. Blushing, Sakusa carefully looks away and observes the borders of their picnic blanket, worrying the frayed border as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world.This is envy, right? Nothing else.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 21
Kudos: 112





	take a miracle to keep me near to you

**Author's Note:**

> used sprinto to do some freewriting and uhhhh... this is what came out of it. it's somewhat different from what i usually do, i think.
> 
> they're teenagers in this au. enjoy!

At the scattered edge of a gnarled apple tree’s shadow, a red and white gingham blanket is spread evenly between the shade and the sun. After a relentless day of harvesting corn, Sakusa and Atsumu just want to relax before they make the long trek back to the farmhouse.

Sakusa sits in the shade, sipping on a thermos of iced barley tea. His sun hat is merely decorative at this point, but regardless, he reaches up and adjusts the brim with unnecessary precision. His work clothes are clinging to his body with the unpleasant feeling of sweat, but at this point, he’d rather wait until they got home to discard them.

Atsumu, of course, sits in the sun, brighter than he already is. With golden hair twice-loved by the heavens above, he makes his way through their picnic basket, carefully pulling out a glass container full of strawberries. With his boots discarded, straw hat set aside, and his shirt nowhere to be found, he flops onto his back and takes a much-needed reprieve from their harvest. 

Sakusa’s eyes wander.

Toned arms, washboard abs, and the sturdiest thighs he’s ever seen, Sakusa can’t help but color with envy. The gods clearly pick their favorites. Atsumu’s gait has an insufferable swagger, but after seeing what he’s capable of, Sakusa can say it’s well-deserved. Born and raised on his family’s farm, Atsumu could do an array of inhuman feats. Among the more impressive ones Sakusa can remember include throwing 50 pound hay bales two stories high, chopping the most gnarled and knotted firewood with ease every day at dawn, and herding an entire pack of cattle riding bareback on a horse.

Sakusa doesn’t even know if he’s physically capable of that. He takes another sip of his tea.

Atsumu’s work pants have sagged, showing off unbearably sharp hip bones and a well-earned tan line. It’s unfair how…  _ beautiful _ Atsumu is. How aesthetically pleasing he is to observe, every part of him from head to toe. Blushing, Sakusa carefully looks away and observes the borders of their picnic blanket, worrying the frayed border as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world.

This is envy, right? Nothing else.

Wistful, his eyes rake over his own body. 

His mother’s family prides themselves on their pale skin, but it does no favors for him during the work day. The sun was brutal on his fair skin for several weeks before he adjusted. Never before seen freckles pepper his skin relentlessly, which he didn’t even know his body was capable of until this summer. With freckles on top of his moles, he feels silly, as if he’s polka-dotted all over. The only thing Sakusa can say he’s happy with is his hands.

His hands no longer have their ‘city boy’ delicacy from his first day in Hyogo. They’re now kissed with an understanding of labor, callouses well-earned and dirt permanently ingrained into his skin.

Sakusa blinks.

Today—and for several months, now—the dirt does little other than irritate him.

Sakusa still remembers the first day they tried to coax him into working. They shoved him into the cow barn with the task of shoveling the gutters, believing that they could rip off the metaphorical band-aid of his mysophobia. He had a complete and utter breakdown. He still remembers their horrified expressions as he desperately scrubbed his hands until they were cracked and bloody, breathing so labored it was a miracle he didn’t pass out. Even then, his family refused to take him back to Tokyo. There was a sense of pity about the Miya household.

After that, he spent the first week by himself doing smaller chores, like washing the eggs, feeding the grain, and herding smaller animals. Child’s play.

But now the Earth is as much a part of him as anything else, and that’s in no small part thanks to Atsumu.

He’s the one who taught him that dirt didn’t need to mean  _ filth, _ that soil was the beginning of life and not its end, that feeling the ground beneath his bare feet was its own reward as they traipsed through the endless kilometers of his family’s land.

Sakusa won’t lie. When his parents first sent him away, he was expecting to stay with a house full of hicks. Uncivilized country-bumpkin farmers with crude humor and unsophisticated taste. No appreciation for bathing, no concept of hygiene whatsoever, and no regard for their appearance. 

He was not expecting to meet Adonis reincarnate himself. 

(Well, to be honest, a pair of them, but he barely ever saw Osamu. He was too busy working his second job at a diner.)

(And Atsumu… Atsumu had this draw about him that Sakusa could not articulate.)

(God, why did it have to be  _ him?) _

Atsumu sighs in relief as he cools himself with a paper fan, picking through their homegrown strawberries for the sweetest and ripest pieces. Sakusa would normally be annoyed, but Atsumu knows that he loves the sour, younger pickings, and he can’t help the way something warms up in his chest at the sight of him.

It isn’t long until strawberry juice stains the edge of Atsumu’s mouth, messy and undeniably sticky in the sweltering heat.

“You have a little something… there,” Sakusa gestures half-heartedly.

“Huh?” Atsumu makes a blind grab at his face, rubbing traces of food off on the back of his hand but not getting the strawberry juice in question.

Sakusa shakes his head, tucking a loose curl behind his ear. “Little around your mouth.”

Atsumu misses again.

Sakusa huffs. “Oh for heaven’s sake…” He leans forward, a handkerchief in hand, gently dabbing away the carmine tracing his mouth. The scent of strawberry is sweet on his breath, tantalizing exhales from parted lips. 

Atsumu grabs Sakusa’s wrist, stopping his motions.

Sakusa refuses to meet his eyes.

Slowly, Atsumu pulls his hat off of his head, the wide brim no longer able to hide Sakusa’s bashful expression. Black curls spill out, tickling the back of his neck. A hand, a too-familiar hand, caresses his jawline with the lightest touch.

Sakusa finally meets his gaze.

“Yer beautiful, you know that?” Atsumu whispers, and there are galaxies hidden away in his eyes, fit to bursting. “My Omi-omi.”

Kiyoomi flushes a cherry red.

_ My Omi-omi. _

Kiyoomi reaches a shaking hand forward, grabbing strands of daffodil and buttercup, and takes a leap of faith into the unknown.

_ I’m yours. _

And they both lean in.

That’s how they share their first kiss— where the mighty sun meets the shade beneath the apple tree, sweetened with the taste of strawberries.

**Author's Note:**

> i... am still not sure what this is supposed to be. i feel like the writing itself is unsure about what it should be. also sorry about the tenses, it feels kinda janky to me. this is more a love letter to living on a farm and working and summer romances than it is about sakuatsu in any form, sorry! i do think these roles fit their characters though, and, well. write what you know.
> 
> edit: it is unlikely that sakusa's mysophobia would disappear in this period of time. offscreen, it is definitely not a one & done type deal--he still has his ups & downs, good days & bad days, but ultimately, he learns to manage it better.
> 
> [come yell at me on twitter!](https://twitter.com/irleggsy)


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